


we can work it out

by miribees



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Extended Scene, Flash Fic, Light Angst, M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient, Pre-Relationship, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), book metaphors? in MY aziraphale? it's more likely than you think, is it god? who knows, meta disguised as fic, you know exactly what you're here for take your fresh 1967 angst and dig in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 13:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20447702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miribees/pseuds/miribees
Summary: "Being a smart demon anyway, Crowley knew to bottle up his every emotion and to never, under any circumstances, go unscrewing the cap."[a look at how aziraphale and crowley each (differently) process forbidden feelings.]





	we can work it out

Crowley likes to think his feelings are a secret. An open secret would be acceptable, _maybe_, but Crowley would still prefer the truth of his emotional state to remain classified information. For a lot of reasons, really. The first being his natural and understandable aversion to being utterly humiliated. The second being that, if he were to imagine Aziraphale knowing how he felt, he would also have to imagine Aziraphale knowingly and purposefully carrying on as if nothing were amiss. Being a smart demon anyway, he knew to bottle up his every emotion and to never, under any circumstances, go unscrewing the cap.

  
Aziraphale is an open book. He's been called naive, over-eager, soft, and a litany of more derisive terms for his unfiltered, unabashed emotions. It's gotten him into trouble more times than he'd care to recount. He could never contain his fury, or agony. They could be righteous in small enough doses. He tried very hard to cover up the more tricky displays of vulnerability, uncertainty, doubt, curiosity, empathy, and dissatisfaction. They were dangerous things to have. He never did get good at it. What he did become good at, however, was brutally and efficiently convincing himself that he didn't feel them in the first place. He couldn't telegraph something on his face or hands that he'd never felt and would never feel on pain of death or paperwork.

-

  
"Should I say thank you?" He inclined his head in, just slightly. It was too much, too brazen, but Crowley was intoxicated by fear and passion in equal measure. He'd make a joke about masochism if it didn't hit so close to home.

"Better not." Aziraphale's mask was coming dangerously close to slipping, every thousand of his unrealized emotions screaming for release. He determinedly kept his polite smile pulled taut, until he watched Crowley's face collapse. "Oh, don't look so disappointed." He keeps smiling, but his words were raw and bitter. "Maybe one day we can... go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz." Aziraphale was hyper-aware of Crowley's eyes on him, reading him, and only felt worse for his fantasy. Crowley was smart, he had to know it was the type of dream people only had when they knew they could never achieve it. Because they could never achieve it, even.

"I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go." The demon's voice was quiet and plaintive but still strong, and Aziraphale pulled back away from what may as well have been Crowley offering up his heart on a plate. It was too much, and he tucked his thoughts back where they belonged, leaving just one last little page free. A paper trail back to the recesses of his mind.

"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Aziraphale had finally stopped smiling, and Crowley watched the angel quickly step out into the evening. He'd been sort-of right about the humiliation, but hadn't anticipated just how much of it he would tolerate if it meant another second in the angel's company. He grabbed Aziraphale's left wrist just as it threatened to drift out of reach.

"Wait, angel, please. We can work it out-"

"I don't think so." _Not now,_ Aziraphale begged in his mind. _Don't do this __now._ Crowley stared, something in his expression settling. Hardening. He relaxed his grip and Aziraphale walked slowly down the sidewalk, not stopping to look back until he heard the infernal roar of the Bentley fade away behind him.

A neon sign flickered desperately against the night.

**Author's Note:**

> surprise, it's the beatles! it's shocking almost, the sheer volume of love songs they released in the 60's alone. prime real estate for pining. you know he went back to his flat afterwards and put on a beatles record and got completely smashed with his plants. 
> 
> maybe i could make a series with little references to some more of their songs, but i'm already dangerously close to songfic territory..... but i'm tempted. seriously i have a list of like 10 already.  
(i wrote this in one go of about 2 1/2 hours and no beta, be gentle. kudos and comments feed my soul)


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